Stay
by Shizuku Tsukishima749
Summary: -"Return from Witch Mountain," 1978.- I had been right in saying he needed me; I just hadn't known how much. Aftermath of Dr. Gannon. Tony/Tia Sibling Bonding.
1. Stay

_A/N: _This was originally just going to be a one-shot centering around Tia and Tony's absolutely beautiful sibling-ship, with which I am obsessed! XD This takes place just after the second movie credits roll, during which time Tia, Tony, and Uncle Bene are heading home to Witch Mountain. Thank you and enjoy!

_A/N: _This was inspired by a scene from a Witch Mountain story by 'kevin711haynes', which is 'Life on Witch Mountain', so all credit goes where it is deserved! I HIGHLY recommend that fanfiction to any hard-core Witch Mountain fans! It's AMAZING!!

_Disclaimer_: I do not own Witch Mountain or anything affiliated with it. Alexander Key, the original author of both books, and Walt Disney Pictures/Buena Vista Productions does, so go talk to them. (Sorry if I got the company names wrong.)

This is in Tia's point of view!

* * *

**Stay**

"Tony?" I dipped my head to peer into my brother's eyes; this wasn't the first time I'd called his name in the last minute, and my concern was growing.

He had acted normally for the majority of the ride home, occasionally staring off into space or pausing midsentence. After we'd returned to Witch Mountain from Los Angeles, though, and now during dinner, he had been completely silent. Uncle Bené was seated at the head of the table beside me, and I could sense his worry as well.

Tony snapped his head up immediately, obviously startled at finally realizing my voice after gazing blankly at nothing for several minutes, but that was not what had my focus: his eyes were bright with what I knew to be a fresh film of tears.

I adjusted my neck to a less potentially crick-causing position, my eyes softening and narrowing at the same time as I searched him in a way only I could. Unnervingly finding that he was blocking me, I reached under the table to grab the hand clenching around his knee, but he flinched away when there was only a hair's breadth between our appendages. I slowly took my hand back and cradled it in my lap with my other hand, slightly hurt by the action, but not daring to let such an emotion coat my face.

He tried to smile at me, though it was forced, tired and plagued. I opened my mouth to speak, but Tony abruptly stood, pushed in his chair, took his dishes from the table, and proceeded to wash them. After he finished, he dried his hands and walked toward us; all of this had been done in tense silence.

He looked to Uncle Bené, and I knew they were speaking telepathically; in the next second, Tony was by my side after bidding our only living relative goodnight.

He slowly bent down and kissed my cheek, as had been our goodnight tradition since living with Granny Malone; however, there was something different about this one. It went on longer than all of our other nightly farewells, which had taken up two seconds at most. This one lasted nearly five.

I raised an eyebrow as he left the room, but if he had noticed, he paid no mind. I turned back to my dinner, though Uncle Bené emanated the same confused anxiety I did at my older brother's peculiar behavior.

He wasn't answering my telepathy calls. I could hear him breathing, but I wanted to be sure.

Quietly and in a matter of seconds, I sneaked from my room to my brother's door down the hall, my yellow nightgown shuffling about my feet. I crept into Tony's room as silently as possible, being sure to close the door even quieter than I had my own, before moving to stand beside his bed.

My plan wasn't to awaken him, oh, no. Not after all he'd been through this past weekend, after everything that had made him as he was during dinner and once we'd arrived home. I just…needed to reassure myself that he was all right.

Closing my eyes, I listened. Tony's relaxed breathing and steady heartbeat filled my ears, and I was glad to match my own function patterns to his. The two tempos were in perfect synchronization now, and after a few more minutes, I opened my eyes. Smiling, I allowed myself to let out a scarcely audible sigh of relief, even to our people's ears. I was convinced now.

I swiveled on my feet in order to head for the door, but before I could finish my ninety-degree turn, a hand shot out from beneath Tony's covers and grasped my wrist. In reflex, I tensed and gasped, the hairs on my neck rising; even so, I instantaneously recognized the tender feelings resonating from the limb.

It was Tony.

I didn't hesitate before turning back around, but I was shocked to see his eyes open and fixed on me, badgered and weary though they were.

When living with Granny Malone, there had been times when Tony grabbed my hand as I passed by his bed in the middle of the night, but he had always been asleep, not recalling any such thing the following morning.

I gently reached over with my free hand and removed the limb encasing my wrist, instead gathering it into my hand and squeezing it. I smiled at him tiredly, though I wouldn't show him the true extent of my exhaustion. I wouldn't do that to him, not when he had so much on his plate already.

He returned the smile with the same enthusiasm I had shown, and I reached down to stroke my brother's hair. He closed his eyes at my touch, moving his face closer to my hand, and I let the light of a genuine smile shine through.

I was so happy to have him back. After frantically searching for and worrying about him over the course of three days, literally feeling as if I were gradually dying as the seconds without him ticked by, I couldn't properly express my elation at having him by my side again.

His wavering voice alarmed me, breaking the careful silence that had previously been established.

"Will you stay with me? Please?"

His eyes burned with intensity, and his hand gripped mine tighter. I swear I choked and let out a sob, tears welling in my eyes by the time the questions ended. He was worse than I'd thought; my initial diagnosis had been bad enough…

He knew I would never leave him, especially when he needed me as he did now, and yet…he was doubting me. He had never doubted me before… Then again, he had never sounded so broken, so very nearly defeated before either...

He needed me now more than he ever had in his life, we both knew that, and he'd always been the one looking out for me. I could finally repay him for all that he'd done and had yet to do.

'Yes.' I answered him telepathically; somehow, our words meant so much more that way.

Truly grinning for the first time since the weekend's horror had started, Tony hastily scooted over in his bed, pulling back the covers for me to climb in beside him. With his mind, he threw them back over and tucked me in as I exhaled in pleasure and sank into the fluffy confines of the mattress and blankets.

Settling down against the immensely comfortable bedding himself, he sighed in the moment's contentment before shifting to his side to face me, as I did him. Simply looking into each other's scarcely visible eyes through the darkness, we saw things we didn't think were possible.

Tony's eyes conveyed intensely swirling grief, self-doubt; pain. I never thought I'd see such things within him, but what scared me the most was at whom these crippling emotions were directed: him.

In my eyes, I could only imagine what he saw. Probably what I was feeling, which was helplessness, fear; pain. I knew he never wanted to see such horrible emotions rippling through me, for that was my older brother's way, but what stunned him the most was at whom my love, the dominating emotion, was directed: him.

His reaction surprised me then. He drew closer and wrapped his arms around me, hugging me almost desperately as he buried his face into my shoulder. His red, silk pajamas were cool on my cheeks, and I proceeded to embrace him with equal sentiment.

Snuggling into his chest, I became aware of just how relaxed I was in his arms, how safe I felt; I had never really noticed it before, but as I looked back, I realized it had always been this way. We had always felt safer in each other's arms, or at the very least, in a close proximity to one another, and tonight was no different.

I was brought from my thoughts in a hurry when I observed Tony's arms had tightened around me, and his breathing patterns had become quicker, deeper; it was unnatural, and it frightened me. The tortured sounds being muffled against my shoulder scared me even more, however, along with the warm, wet sensation seeping through my nightgown in the same spot.

Insight struck without warning, and I held him tighter, shutting my eyes as tears rapidly gathered in them.

Tony was crying.

I had been right in saying he needed me…

I just hadn't known how much.

* * *

_A/N: _Again, this is simply a story about the beautiful sibling relationship Tia and Tony share. Nothing more, nothing less.

Referring to my first Author's Note's initial sentence, I have an idea for a second (more) chapter(s), so please tell me whether or not I should continue! Thanks!


	2. Bipolar Personality Disorder

The next morning, I awoke to find us in nearly the same positions. Tony was still hugging me, though his grip had grown lax during the night, and I was steadfastly cuddled against his chest.

I blinked hard to cast the sleepiness from my eyes prior to opening them, revealing the blue-black eyes of our people to the sleeping face of my older brother. I couldn't bear to wake him, so I stayed by his side, as I knew he would wish of me.

To anyone who didn't know him as well as I did, it would seem that he was peaceful here, in sleep. Yet, because of my advantage, I knew better. Far better.

His head was teeming with potential nightmares about the horrific things he had faced and encountered during our weekend, the same terrors that had provoked his sudden onslaught of tears last night and were presently causing faint shadows to form under his eyes. Somehow, I knew the only thing keeping those nightmarish intentions from becoming real was my presence.

I internally exhaled in relief upon seeing the shining tear trails on his face were practically nonexistent, meaning he had cried no further than I could recall. He must have cried himself to sleep as well as me.

Perhaps-

'Tia?'

My eyes widened. Startled, my hand reflexively flew to rest on my brother's as a familiar voice entered my mind.

'Uncle Bené?' I answered back. It was not unusual for our beloved uncle to be up so early, but it was strange for him to telepathically call out to me at such an hour.

Then, I realized what was going on: Uncle Bené always checked our rooms when he got up each morning to make sure we were sleeping soundly, seeing as I had been known to have nightmares about Mr. Bolt or Deranian finding us when I was younger, which I would sometimes accidentally share with Tony in my sleep. It had been three years, but he hadn't dropped the protective practice.

'Uncle Bené, I'm sorry. I'm with Tony. I…' Finding the words to describe my need to be with my currently emotionally and mentally agonized brother was difficult for some unknown reason, but it seemed I wouldn't have to worry.

'It's all right, Tia. I understand. I only hope you can help him. The poor boy seems incredibly down about something.' I smiled minutely, no matter that my guardian couldn't see it.

'Thank you, Uncle Bené.'

'You're welcome, Tia. I'm just glad you're there for him.'

Feeling the connection between us slowly dissolving, I leaned back onto my brother's chest. Unexplainably exhausted all of a sudden, I closed my eyes and let his sole presence drink me in.

* * *

It had been two weeks since then, and Tony's 'condition' had only worsened.

He kept to himself for the most part, really only joining Uncle Bené and me when it came to meals, and even then, he was as silent and distant as ever.

Uncle Bené became seriously concerned, constantly asking me questions about Tony's uncharacteristic, lingering behavior. I was always increasingly nervous during these sessions; Uncle Bené was never harsh or violent, but the mere reality that, eventually, I might have to betray my brother's trust and tell him was more than I could handle.

I tried to speak telepathically with Tony more and more as the days passed, seeing as he wouldn't talk to anyone verbally anymore, but each time, it was like he was shutting me out. I watched him as he walked from the house sometimes, hands deep in his pockets, head down, eyes staring at nothing as he gazed vacantly at the ground.

Even when Uncle Bené tried to speak with him, both telepathically and orally, he was issued no response of any kind. The boy would only stare at him, stare as if unseeing or seeing quite well and straight through him.

The psychologists in our community had tried, the doctors had tried; it seemed no one could find any sort of affliction, any sort of indicating that something was wrong with him, and yet…this wasn't our Tony. This wasn't _my _Tony.

It appeared no one would ever be able to get through to him. He had turned cold to every one of our people, even those closest to him: Uncle Bené and me. For some reason, though, it seemed he had turned especially detached toward me.

Whenever we were together, which I made sure was quite often, he kept his gaze straight ahead, mouth and mind closed off, sometimes walking faster than me as if to pretend I wasn't there. Now and then, I would reach over to try to grasp his hand like I had that first night home, but he would simply step farther away from me, folding his hands behind his back.

Feeling more desperate and alone than anything else, I found myself sneaking down the hall to his door in the dead of night more frequently than ever, only having to hear his even, mostly unburdened breathing to know that at least some semblance of the brother I knew and loved, who loved me, was still there.

For me, the real fear in this entire situation was not as the humans would expect; it was not the affect all of this would have on me, our people, or Uncle Bené that scared me. Rather, it was the toll being taken on Tony…

My brother was not the same, had not been the same for approximately three months now, and I was dying inside. If I had thought three days without him physically beside me was absolute torture-before-death, ninety days without him there in any form at all was indeterminably numbing.

Each night, before and after checking on Tony, I internally struggled with the prospect of simply forcing my way into his room and refusing to leave until I got some answers. In the past, I knew Tony would never have hurt me corporeally at all, but with this new, indifferently unpredictable behavior, I was sickened as the thought that I could no longer truly be sure ran through my mind.

Each time, the fearful side won out, and I would turn on my heel and race back to my room before Tony could sense me, although that held little to no logic on my part seeing as he was asleep.

Once back to bed, I would bury myself within my sheets, hugging them all to my chest as I pushed my head deeper into my fluffy pillow. Then, I would feel the tears start to prick my eyes, and I would not interfere as an uncountable number charged to win the race down my visage.

Even while I cried myself to sleep, I would close my eyes and fold my hands tightly, praying as my brother and I had been taught when attending church at St. Paul's Mission with Granny Malone.

I prayed for Tony every night without fail. Even if my people didn't have a defined religion, I knew I couldn't do this on my own. I needed help and lots of it. I wanted my brother back, and this was the last thing I knew to try.

Both of us having turned a year older the day Tony had been permanently freed from Dr. Gannon's control, Tony fifteen to my thirteen, I realized my older sibling was in much bigger trouble than I had originally comprehended.

If he didn't come back to us soon, or ever, he was going to chase away everyone important to him. It was amazingly hard, if not basically impossible, to lose even a bit of our connection to any of our people, friends or closer, but we were humanoid aliens. Apart from our abilities, we were practically human ourselves.

Therefore, I noticed people that had been our friends for as long as we'd been there shaking their heads in a pitying motion as they walked away from our house, some even looking into my eyes and touching my shoulder in sympathy before leaving. Uncle Bené had virtually stopped trying by now as well, having exhausted his energies via aiding Tony when there was no progress to be made.

Knowing I wouldn't be able to take it much longer, I began to formulate a plan. If Tony wouldn't come to me, I'd come to him, whether he liked it or not. If he fought back verbally, which would be his first vocal words in three months, I was confident I had enough to pin him; if he fought back telekinetically...if it came down to it, I knew I'd have no choice but to fight him. I just hoped it wouldn't get that far.

* * *

_A/N: _I know this may seem like they're OOC, but I just thought this could be a proposed side for what COULD have happened psychologically to Tony after the whole ordeal with Dr. Gannon. Besides that, my mind won't shut up! XD Plus...it IS an interesting concept... I mean, how the heck could he NOT have been a little psyched out after being kidnapped, controlled, and nearly forced to kill his own sister?! O.O

_A/N: _If you're wondering about the chapter title, it's the abbreviation for 'Borderline Personality Disorder'. I believe it really fits Tony in this chapter.


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